


A Collection of Short Stories

by kiriiago



Category: Original Work, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Fun, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Random & Short, References to Depression, Short, Short One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-11-02 06:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiriiago/pseuds/kiriiago
Summary: Hi there! Welcome to my new mini series that I'll be updating periodically. This will be a collection of short stories that I work on from time to time. I'll update the tags as I add more stories, but for the most part I'm expecting this to be BNHA centric and inspired by a song. However, expect some other little drabbles in the middle! Please see chapter notes for Trigger Warnings - Some of these chapters will be addressing heavy content. Enjoy!





	1. Fixing Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter focuses on suicidal thoughts, possible action towards suicide, and depression. Please read at your own discretion. If you're reading this and you're someone who struggles with depression and/or have serious thoughts that are getting you down, PLEASE don't hesitate to reach out to someone! There are so many people that would be willing to support you! No matter who you are, you're not alone.   
Suicide Hot Line: 1-800-273-8255  
-  
"Fixing Mistakes" is based off the song 'Worst Mistakes' by Josh A and iAmJakeHill.  
-  
When Kirishima, who struggles with depression, finds Bakugou standing on the edge of the roof, he does what he can to help his friend see the light.

When Kirishima saw Bakugou standing at the edge of the roof, he was shocked. His own experiences blurred together in his head, the chaotic noise reminding him that  _ it was supposed to be him who wasn’t ok _ . He wanted to scream out to his friend, tell him to  _ just step down, it’s ok _ , but his mouth didn’t move. Kirishima knew this spot far too well, had stood right where he found his friend now, and the irony screamed at him. 

“...Katsuki?”

The boy on the lip of the building said nothing, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s presence. He stood there, quietly, and looked out upon the city that was laid out in front of him.  _ It was almost pretty.  _ He shivered of an invisible wind, and brought his feet together beneath him.

Kirishima swiftly walked up to Bakugou, scared by the slight movement. The boy said nothing as he approached; He knew nothing he could say would do anything but infuriate the temperamental blonde, and he couldn’t afford the repercussions of that. Softly, the redhead lay his hand on his friend’s shoulder, and began to sing.

_ When there's nowhere to run I'll stand my ground, oh _

_ I've been down one too many times _

_ But I'll fight 'til I can't find the light _

_ I've been there, done all that before _

_ Don't care, what's one more war? _

_ I'll be here if you need me _

Bakugou finally turned around to look at Kirishima. Where Kirishima expected steely, cold eyes, he found a pained expression, full of shame. “I messed up, man,” Bakugou whispered. “I really screwed up this time,”

Kirishima knew the feeling all too well.  _ I should be the one saying this _

The boy lifted his foot up onto the lip and pulled himself up to be standing even with Bakugou. He squeezed his friend’s shoulder, looking out at the view that had become so well known to him.  _ If I hadn’t been here, I couldn’t have helped him. _

“You’ll be ok,” Kirishima began quietly. At an unsure glance from Bakugou, he continued. “We all screw up, and it sucks. I would know. But I’m here for you, remember? I stick around because I care about you. And I  _ want  _ to help you!” 

The redhead stepped back, pulling the blonde away from the edge as he did so.

“I can’t do that here, Bakugou. I can’t..”

_ I can’t lose you. _

Kirishima let the unsaid words hang in the air as he warily watched Bakugou for a response, for  _ anything,  _ but his friend’s head was hung and his eyes were trained to his feet. The two stood in silence for a long moment, with tension hanging in the air between them.

_ Please, say something.  _

An unsteady voice broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” it said.

Kirishima sighed, his fear giving way to relief. “Don’t apologize, Bakugi.” He responded gently. 

“We’re going to be ok.”

  
  



	2. The Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the story of Wyatt Jones, the most famous cowboy in all the Wild Wild West, and Maverick Sillas, the Saloon Keeper of Deadrock, Nevada, who hates this cowboy's guts.  
-  
Based on the song 'The Wanderer' by Dion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I find that reading this out loud, in a western accent, makes everything a lot more fun :)

Life was hustlin’ and bustlin’ as per usual in this here old, western town. The town had always been here, the most common stop for travelers journeying west. The clatter of horses’ feet as they were walked, ridden, and led through the town resonated through the streets, along with the chatter of the people of Deadrock.

Deadrock, Nevada was well known for its theatre and its hospitality, but even more so for the large variety of characters they had pass through. From arrogant British hotshots to fleeing vigilantes, things never ceased to entertain in the dusty, western city. In the center of the town stood its oldest building, which held the ever popular pub. Night and day, the pub was full of people and burstin’ with liveliness. Fights broke out daily, and the locals made bets on the amount of time that would pass in between smashed glasses. Sounds of whiskey bottles being slammed against tables, enthusiastic conversations, gunshots and the like could be heard from the entirety of Deadrock, it was so small.

In the midst of it all sat Wyatt Jones, the most well known cowboy in all the Wild Wild West. Rumours of his travels had spread throughout all the little western cities - Some said he had snuck onto a British ship when he was a wee child and rallied everyone on that ship to follow the trail of gold into the West. Others said he was an escaped convict from Switzerland, who had come to the West to claim his rightful place in society. Some even spread tall tales that he was followin’ his sweetheart across the New Land to a place of their own, but no one knew for sure. All anyone knew was that Wyatt Jones gave the Sheriffs a rather hard time, always had a pretty lady or two on his arm, and took a Blue Blazer with extra whiskey.

Now here Wyatt Jones, he was a troublemaker. And Maverick Sillas, he knew that real well. You see, Maverick Sillas was the Saloon Keeper of Deadrock, and he had seen the likes of Wyatt Jones many a time. And boy, let me tell you --- Maverick Sillas hated Wyatt Jones’ guts. “Rally everyone on a ship,” he would say with a scoff, a smirk playing on his lips. “Y’all really are a bucket of rocks, aren’t ya? That’s the gosh darn biggest lie I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been here ‘n there ‘n all over in my time! He ain’t nothin’ but a lyin’, snootin’ cowboy, an’ I don’t like him. I don’t like him one bit.”

When Wyatt Jones walked into Maverick Sillas’ bar, a horde o’ little ladies followin’ and laughin’ behind him, this here Saloon Keeper’s brows furrowed as he chatted with another customer. The renowned cowboy walked on up to the bar, and with whispers of awe all around him, slapped his hand down on the time-old mahogany and yelled out to Maverick, “One Blue Blazer with that extra fire of whiskey!” Upon hearing a chuckle from one o’ the girls behind him, he continued, “And maybe a little somethin’ for this pretty little lady I’ve got with me.”

Maverick scoffed. This cowboy was just like the rest: Stuck in his head, and eatin’ up all the attention the people of Deadrock were givin’ him. Unfazed, he shouted back from across the bar, “I ain’t got no ‘Blue Blazer’ here, boy. There ain’t no special requests for anyone but locals.”

Wyatt Jones laughed, turning around to address the people in the pub. “You hear that y’all? This here bartender won’t make a little drink for  _ the  _ Wyatt Jones!” Many of the locals fell for his tricks and glared at Maverick, while the ones that had been there longer shot him a look o’ sympathy. This here cowboy wanted what he wanted, and more people knew of him than they knew about him. That was the problem with rumours - Everyone fell for ‘em! Still, Maverick turned to him and said, “Boy, I ain’t got a care in the world for who you are. You best be gettin’ on your way before I kick you outta here myself!”

The saloon fell silent, watching with eager eyes the situation that was laid out before them. The cowboy, with his spurs clickin’ and his eyes a-blazin’, turned to Maverick. “You ain’t nothin’ but an old man. What’re you gonna do? Put me out? No-sir-ee, you ain’t got a chance against me. You ain’t nothin’ but a crazy, old man. Make me that drink, bartender, before I--”

A gunshot rang through the saloon, and Wyatt Jones froze. A bullet had soared right past his head and lodged itself into the swinging door far behind him. In front of the shocked cowboy stood here Maverick, holding a musket at the ready, slightly smokin’ as it did so. “I said,” Maverick called out, frighteningly calm as he did, “Get outta here. I don’t take no trouble in my Saloon, an’ you ain’t nothin’ but trouble.”

With no less than a long glare and a “Humpf,” from the beaten cowboy, Wyatt Jones walked on out of the Saloon of Deadrock, never to return. The chatterin’ and arguin’ soon returned, and Maverick Sillas returned to his daily hustlin’ and bustlin’ as the Saloon Keeper in ol’ Deadrock, Nevada.

  
  



End file.
